


Spiraling

by Thireven



Category: RWBY
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Blood and Violence, Depression, Gen, Mental Breakdown, Past Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Temporary Character Death, Time Loop, lots of cussing
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-11
Updated: 2021-02-22
Packaged: 2021-03-17 14:21:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,827
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29351889
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Thireven/pseuds/Thireven
Summary: Qrow knows they all see it, the way he's falling apart at the seams, and yet he can't bring himself to tell them why even as he crumbles.
Comments: 3
Kudos: 12





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Wow, it's been awhile since I've been on here. Cross-posting from FFN.

He has long lost count of how often he has seen this one sight.

The snowy expanse stretches on for miles around them, Mantle a harsh distant blot of darkness against the white of the tundra. Mouth pressed into a thin line, Clover meets his gaze with eyes full of resolve, just as he always does. The two circle each other slowly, weapons drawn in preparation for combat. He knows how this will go; he's gone through the motions far too many times now. No matter what he does, what choices he makes out here in this frigid prison, how hard he tries to turn the tide of the battle, the outcome will always be the same. Harbinger will erupt from Clover's chest with no warning, a pained gasp coming from him as he is run through. The man will stumble as blood pours from the wound carved into him, staining his clothes and the hand that clings to the hole in vain. Golden eyes will lock onto his, aiming a twisted grin at him that leaves his stomach rolling. Those same words that have been spoken to him each time around will be repeated, a constant knife that pierces and twists inside his heart.

_ "Like you just killed Clover?" _

And he will look down at Harbinger, coated in blood, fury and shame rising in his throat as it always does. 

Except this time is different. It does not register in his mind that it is—that something in this never-ending spiral has shifted—until after he slams the full weight of his body against Clover. He has made this same attempt again and again, an act of desperation that ultimately ends in his failure.

This time it works.

He does not see the charismatic man impaled on Harbinger. He does not see Clover collapse into the snow, gasping while a pool of blood spills into the snow around him. He does not see the light fade from those pristine teal eyes.

Pain blossoms from his torso. The tip of Harbinger, now painted a striking red, mockingly sits in the center of his vision. As the seconds tick by, his gaze drifts to meet Clover's widened eyes. It is surreal, seeing him crouching there in the snow. Everything in this moment is wrong, something that should not be happening, yet a feeling of satisfaction stirs in him at the life in those eyes. They have not been extinguished as they had countless times before. Instead they shine, even if the only thing he can see in them is horror.

The blade is pulled back. He feels it slide out and stumbles, hand drifting to the hole to press against it. A futile effort, he muses, streams of blood gushing over his fingers. When his strength fails him he collapses onto his back, weakly gasping for air. Clover shouts. Tyrian laughs. The sounds are muted, his ears full of cotton. Despite the biting cold that surrounds him, his chest burns. His head swims. Frozen needles prick his lungs with every inhale.

Was this how Clover had felt all those times he lay dying?

A shape appears above him. He forces himself to focus, to see the shimmering teal eyes that stare down at him. Clover reaches out to lightly touch his bloodied hand.

"Qrow," Clover says softly. It is the first time he has ever heard the ace's voice crack.

It hurts to breathe.

What he says will not matter. He has come to understand that through these painful cycles. Yet seeing the misery etched on Clover's face pushes him on. He must say something to at least try to ease the man's suffering, even if it doesn't work. Even if it is useless. Even though there is no point in any of it.

So he does his best to take in a breath despite the agony permeating through him and wills out the words.

"Look after them."

Clover closes his eyes for a moment, still trying to fight back against the tears threatening to spill, and nods. "I will. I swear, I will."

The man will not get the chance to. He continues on despite that fact.

"Thank you...for sticking around. For being a friend."

_ For being so much more  _ is left unsaid. He does not need to say it. Clover already knows.

He feels at peace, much to his surprise. Unlike so many times before, he is not alone in his final moments. Someone dear to him is there to see him off.

Clover chokes out his name again, voice breaking from grief.

The world around him begins to grow dark even as the sun rises.

Qrow only wishes he could comfort the weeping man.

~0~

Just as he has at the end of every cycle, Qrow jerks awake in his bed. Chest heaving, he drops his arm to lamely feel around for the bottle of water that sits on the floor nearby. When his fingers finally brush against it, he curls them around it and picks it up. It will not numb the lingering remnants of pain, nor will it blur the vision of Clover's teary eyes. Nevertheless he downs the water, a deep part of him wishing that he could bury the ache in his soul with a drink that burns his throat. He will continue to refuse himself that false comfort, his niece's pleas for him to stop and better himself just as fresh in his memory as the day this all began. He will not return to drinking, no matter what. He will not let himself become a liability again in spite of the intense desire to drown himself in alcohol.

With a sigh, he lays his arm over his face.

He knows when he turns his head, he will see the clock display the same time it has dozens of times.

So he looks.

It reads 3 AM.


	2. Chapter 2

It is five in the morning when Clover wakes.

Years of daily routine sees him move about his living quarters with little conscious thought towards what needs to be done, so used to these same preparations each day that his body simply does it all on autopilot. Shower, hair, clothes, supplies. Barely fifteen minutes have passed when he finishes and leaves. From there he makes a beeline for the mess hall, because even he is in need of a warm cup of coffee to grease his gears at the start of the day. He is generally alone during this time, as the group of young Huntsman and Huntresses are not awoken by Penny for another hour, and it is at that same time that his own team rises to begin their duties.

So it is much to his surprise when he enters the room to find that he has company this morning. It is even more of a shock for him to realize that it is none other than Qrow Branwen standing by the coffee maker.

"Morning, Qrow," he calls out, striding towards the man. "You're up early."

A grunt is all he receives in reply, which is typically the extent of Qrow's morning interactions.

He stops by the table and stifles a yawn. Just as he begins to go through the process of making a cup, he looks at Qrow and freezes.

One of the first things the Ace Ops learned about Qrow was that he is most certainly  _ not _ a morning person. Marrow had been the first to see him trudging through the building with a large thermos filled with coffee, chugging it as if his life depended on it. In the following days each of them got to see the same, and so they came to expect his often unkempt appearance in the early hours of the day.

Yet the man beside him is even more disheveled than normal. His hair is not slicked back like it usually is, instead looking messy and untamed. The thick dark circles under his eyes stand out against his paler skin. He is gripping the mug he holds with trembling hands, his knuckles white from the pressure, arms pressed tightly against his sides as he stands hunched over.

Something in Clover's chest twists at the sight.

"Qrow? Is everything alright?"

Apparently that is not the question to ask, for Qrow seems to wilt even more before him. The trembling intensifies. His chest rises and falls rapidly as his breaths become short and quick.

It only takes Clover a moment to piece together what is happening, though he feels that is a moment too long.

Qrow is having a panic attack.

What set it off? Clover will have to find out later. He puts his cup down so that he can rest a hand on Qrow's arm. The unexpected sensation of being touched makes Qrow's head snap upwards to lock eyes with his concerned companion.

It only worsens. Qrow quickly drops his head back down, eyes wide and wild. Confused by the reaction, Clover lets go and instead reaches for the cup. When he grabs it Qrow doesn't protest and lets him take it to place it on the table.

"You need to sit," Clover tells him, but goes unacknowledged.

He holds Qrow's arm in a gentle grip and presses his other hand against the panicked man's back. It is more of a struggle to get him to move than Clover first thought, but he is eventually able to guide Qrow over to the chair nearest the table for him to sit. Letting out a painful, shuddering breath, Qrow curls in on himself, fingers digging into the center of his shirt.

Clover takes a seat beside him, keeping his hand on Qrow's back.

Panic attacks are not a new sight for Clover. Though the rigid training undergone by its academy students and military are a point of pride for Atlas, they are not emotionless. Even the most composed of warriors can reach their breaking point. There are simply times when the stress becomes too much. He understands that very well. But it is another thing entirely to see Qrow like this, looking small and frail at his side when just yesterday the two had been happily bantering with one another while tearing through Grimm.

He struggles to think of any recent events that may have prompted this reaction. The group of young Huntresses and Huntsman under Qrow's care have been doing quite well ever since their first mission; they are quite skilled and their experiences prior to arriving in Atlas have shaped them into more than capable fighters. They rarely came back with scratches, let alone any injuries that would be a cause for concern.

Though that would not diminish any worries the man had about them. It's clear to everyone just how greatly Qrow cares for the group. Perhaps it is the reason behind this panic attack after all?

During his musing Qrow had begun to relax, but it still takes some time before he finally lets go of his rumpled shirt. Qrow runs an unsteady hand through his hair and takes in a deep breath. There is still a lingering fear in his downcast eyes when he turns to Clover, but he is no longer shaking and gasping.

"Would you like a cup?" Clover asks as he stands.

"Water," Qrow says in a wavering voice.

Clover is more than happy to fulfill the request, returning swiftly to hold it out. Qrow takes the offered cup and holds it firmly in his hand.

"Do you need anything else?"

Qrow shakes his head with a quiet, "No."

"Alright." Clover pauses for a moment, then adds, "I won't ask."

"Thank you."

He glances up at the clock. It's getting close to six. "The others will be here soon."

Qrow only nods. Clover assumes that means he's okay.

Six comes. It is ten after when Ruby enters alongside Penny, energy buzzing around the duo as always. When her gaze lands on Qrow her eyes light up, and she bounces over with a grin on her face.

"Morning, Uncle Qrow! Morning, Clover!" She greets them with all of her usual cheerfulness. She is about to say something else when she finally takes in her uncle's appearance, her eyebrows knitting together. "Are you okay?"

Clover catches the way Qrow digs his teeth into his lip. Despite that, Qrow forces himself to smile when he looks up at her.

"Just had a bit of trouble sleeping," he answers.

"Oh." Ruby frowns. Her voice is much softer when she asks, "Was I being too loud?"

"Nah. You're fine, kiddo. Go get yourself some breakfast."

She smiles and wraps her arms around his shoulders for a quick hug. He keeps his expression neutral, but Clover can see a hint of pain in those red eyes. Just as she lets go the rest of the group trickle into the room while mumbling their own morning greetings. Ruby hurries back over to Penny, already moving her hands about while she talks. How the two manage to maintain such a level of liveliness every day is beyond him. From the corner of his eye he notices Qrow turn towards them. The way Qrow watches them all shuffle around diligently, ever protective over them, warms Clover's heart. He is more at ease with them around, even if it only by a bit. For that Clover is grateful.

It does make him doubt his initial guess as to what started the panic attack.

"I'm going to grab a bite to eat." Clover stretches his arms over his head. "Want anything?"

He can tell that Qrow wants to forego eating. Instead the man simply shrugs. "I'll leave it up to you."

"No pressure there," Clover says with a smirk.

Qrow chuckles, but it sounds hollow.

In truth, it makes Clover uneasy. He isn't sure what could be wrong to make Qrow act like this. Something had clearly happened for him to be so distant, but is it because of a recent development? Or is it from before they arrived in Atlas? Clover shakes his head as he goes over the day's breakfast options. He told Qrow he wouldn't ask, so he won't. He'll wait instead. Hopefully in time Qrow will open up about his woes to alleviate the weight on his shoulders. For now the best Clover can do is be there to offer a hand when needed.

"Here," he says as he returns, holding out a plate of eggs to Qrow. "Something easy on the stomach."

Qrow takes the plate and looks down at it, his mouth pressing into a thin line. Eventually he sighs and digs his fork into it with a barely audible thanks. Deciding to give the man some space, Clover steps away to instead approach Marrow. The moment he joins his teammate, however, he sees Team RWBY gather beside Qrow. He watches in mild amusement as they rearrange the nearby chairs to sit around the man in a semicircle. They begin to idly chat about yesterday's mission, with Ruby enthusiastically waving her arms around to empathize her words. He doesn't hear what she's talking about though, his attention solely on the way a small smile tugs at Qrow's lips while listening to them.

What Ruby says next, however, makes Clover focus on the conversation.

"I'm really proud of you, Uncle Qrow."

Qrow stills for only a beat before he hastily shoves a fork full of eggs into his mouth.

Yang nods, beaming. "You've been doing a great job."

"You're even starting to look healthier," Weiss adds.

Blake reaches out to touch his arm. "We know this hasn't been easy for you, but keep at it, okay? You're making progress."

Qrow lets out a soft but genuine laugh. "You guys trying to butter me up or something?"

Weiss snorts. "Oh, please. Ruby could do that without any help from us."

The statement earns a grumbled response from Qrow that makes the four girls snicker.

The buzz of his scroll interrupts Clover. He glances at the time and sighs. "Alright, everyone! Meeting time!"

As the young friends rush to straighten everything out, with Ruby taking her uncle's plate for him, Clover keeps his eyes on Qrow. The moment having passed, the joy fades from Qrow's face, replaced with a heavy weariness. It isn't until everyone else has shuffled out of the room that Qrow gets to his feet, looking older and more haggard than just a few minutes ago. 

Clover is curious, but he won't question the man. He carefully places his hand on Qrow's shoulder and gives it a squeeze. 

"If you ever need to talk, I'm all ears."

"...Yeah," Qrow mumbles.

Neither say anything else as they head down the hallway.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In which nothing goes wrong.

Qrow stares at the entrance of the tunnel with a frown. Behind him Clover rattles off the mission information to everyone, once again going over what they know about the tunnels and the Grimm that haunt them. It's a standard hunting mission: go in and exterminate the monsters within. Simple, but nevertheless his stomach lurches uncomfortably. He has been here so many times before, and it has never gone right. There is something about this particular maze of caves that makes him wonder if the universe simply did not want them to successfully complete the mission. Hell, the last time he had gone in everyone but Clover (because of course he would be so lucky) came out of it with frostbite of all things.

It is _always_ one thing or another here to ruin the mission. He dreads finding out what it will be this time.

"That's everything," Clover says, waving his Scroll back and forth. "You know what to do. Watch each other's backs. Don't forget to report in."

Qrow watches everyone split into their respective teams and plunge into the darkness of the tunnels. Clover taps his shoulder as he glides past him with a wink.

_Cocky bastard._

These tunnels are markedly different from those of the Dust mines, their dark jagged interiors a stark contrast to the brighter and somewhat smoother mines. Fighting inside here is always a chore—one that Qrow very much despises—because they need to keep the light from their Scrolls on just to see a few feet in front of them. Numerous attempts had been made to set up a lighting system inside, but those efforts proved to be in vain since the lights always seemed to break in the end, and thus abandoned. He's been through here enough times by now to thankfully have most of the layout memorized, which makes things easier on him. The others aren't so _lucky_ , of course, but at least one of them has an advantage. Brothers know they need it with the living hell that is this mission.

Which is a great exaggeration, as there's been several worse missions, but none ever come close to being as frustrating as this one on the sheer basis of things going wrong.

Like the frostbite. Or the cave in. Or the sudden nonsensical flooding of the tunnels. That last one still has him stumped.

He tries his best to bite back the sigh building in his chest and runs a hand down his face.

"You alright?" Clover asks, glancing at him.

"Yeah, just...just tired," he mutters. Has he ever not been tired during this one? "Don't worry. Won't be an issue."

There's a certain warmth to Clover's voice when he says, "I know it won't."

Qrow has to fight against the urge to look at his partner. He knows what he'll see if they meet eyes, so he keeps his gaze forward and nods. From the edge of his vision he sees the smile on Clover's face fall.

_Don't tell me he took that personally._ Judging from the way Clover swings his head around, hand tightening around his Scroll, he did. _Why are you like this? You should know better._

It makes Qrow chew the inside of his cheek. "Sorry."

"Hmm?"

"Well, it just seemed like you...I don't know, that you..." He trails off and slaps his hand over his eyes. What a wordsmith he is. "Nevermind. Too tired for words today, apparently."

At least Clover snorts in amusement at that. "Did you have any coffee?"

"About three cups. Didn't help." No, wait...had it just been three? "Scratch that, four."

"What?" Clover chuckles. "How did you drink that many cups without anyone noticing?"

"Beats me. I managed to sneak up on everyone inside the mess hall the other day just by walking in, remember?"

"I don't think I've ever seen Harriet glare that much for so long."

"Eh. She had it coming. Payback for the Manticore thing."

"Qrow, that's one of my teammates you're talking about," Clover says in mock indignation.

"A teammate who deserved to be scared."

"Cruel and unusual punishment."

Gods above does he always miss their ridiculous bantering. A pang in his chest makes him glare at the inky haze ahead of them. Not the time for that. _Never_ the time for that. He flexes his fingers. Clover takes notice and places a hand on his arm.

"If you'd like to, we can talk—"

"I'm fine."

_Damn it_. There's an obvious edge to his voice, one that causes him to snap his jaw shut when he realizes how he sounds. He hadn't intended to let the anger creep in like that, but it had, and he can hear a sharp inhale from Clover because of it. There's a painful twist in his stomach, one that has him digging his fingers into his pant leg. The silence that falls between the two only makes him feel worse.

He silently prays to whatever being in the universe is willing to listen to him to give him a break just this once.

Why would he ever be so lucky?

Clover stops walking.

"Have I done something to upset you?"

Qrow swallows past the pain. "No. What makes you think that?"

Another inhale sends a shiver down his spine. This is not going to end well, that much he can tell.

"For one, you've been going out of your way to avoid making eye contact with me for the past few days," Clover says pointedly. Qrow tries not to wince. "Secondly, you have snapped at me quite a few times simply for asking questions. What conclusion is there to make other than that you're upset with me?"

_And he thinks I'm pretending not to be._

"I don't think this is the place to be talking about this," is the first thing that comes out of his mouth. He knows the moment it does that it's the wrong thing to say, even if it is true.

Clover huffs. "So that's a yes?"

"No," Qrow says. "It's not. I'm not... _shit_."

Clover stops to look at him with a cocked eyebrow. Qrow presses his hands into his eyes. _Really_ not the time or place to be having a conversation that he doesn't want to even think about having in the first place. Shouldn't be having, really, but reality itself despises his very existence.

How can he possibly explain that the reason he's acting like this is because when he looks at Clover it isn't his sparkling teal eyes he sees, but instead dull lifeless eyes that stare back at him?

In a softer tone Clover asks, "Does it have anything to do with what happened in the mess hall?"

There it is. He knew it would be brought up eventually.

"Yes." He sighs and lets his arms drop. "I didn't want anyone to see me like that. Just wanted to deal with it on my own."

"You shouldn't do that. It's not healthy."

_Not healthy. Right._ He snorts, waving a hand at himself. "No shit. One good look at me is proof of that."

"That's not funny, Qrow."

"Wasn't meant to be."

"Have you ever considered that venting your problems may help?" The concern in his voice is painful. "That it might ease at least some of the burdens you bear?"

Qrow can't help the resentful laugh that slips past his lips. Vent _his_ problems? Like watching the people he cares about die time and time again? His own numerous deaths? The dozens if not more resets he's gone through? The cycle of torture he's been trapped in for who knows how long now? Yeah, sure, like he could vent his problems. It wasn't as if he hadn't already tried.

He can see Clover's eyes narrow in confusion. 

"What happened to not asking?"

"I'm not. I'm just suggesting—"

"Right. Of course you're not." Qrow rolls his eyes. "You really want to know why? It's because there's no one that would understand my problems," he growls. "So instead of trying to lecture me about how I deal with my stupid shit, why not focus on the mission like we're supposed to."

That makes Clover deflate. "You don't know that for certain."

"I do."

"You've tried?"

_Yes,_ he thinks, grinding his teeth. He flexes his hands again to resist digging his nails into his palms. _And it never goes well._

"Just back off, Ebi. Drop it."

Clover closes his eyes and lets out a slow exhale. "Alright."

Of all the things that could've gone wrong on this damned mission, it had to be _this_?

Anger flaring, Qrow storms ahead, grabbing hold of Harbinger. The whir of gears bounces around the tunnel until he is holding its tonfa form. A Centinel pops out of the wall, only for him to cut it through the middle a moment later.

_Whatever,_ he thinks bitterly.

All the more reason to finish this mission as quickly as possible. Then he can crash for the rest of the day and pretend like none of this happened.

And ignore Clover.

_Fuck_.

He rubs the bridge of his nose. No point dwelling on it, even though he will, because that's just how he is.

The particular tunnel they're in is a long one, winding down and around gradually enough that it's difficult to notice just how deep it goes. Unless you're already aware, that is. It begins to widen towards the end, which is how Qrow knows they're nearing the large cavern it connects to after what feels like an eternity of walking. Who they run into once they arrive has differed between cycles, but he knows that this time around it will be a certain yellow and black duo.

They come out onto a high ledge inside the cavern. The all too familiar glow of Dust illuminates the surroundings in a soft spectrum of colors, just bright enough to make out the details of the formations around them. Sure enough Blake and Yang are there when he looks down, just now entering from the bottom of the chamber. Clover makes a vague observation about it, one that Qrow deliberately tunes out. He raises his head to look at the stalactites above them. Knowing what comes next, he preemptively shifts Harbinger from tonfa to war scythe. Clover comments on that, too. Not that Qrow cares to listen.

He takes a breath in.

"Yang, Blake, move!"

Blake and Yang jerk their heads upwards to stare at him. There is a moment's pause, nothing more than a tense heartbeat in which nothing happens. Then the cavern shakes. Yang loops her arm through Blake's to pull her backwards in heed of his shout. Before his partner can react, Qrow launches himself off the ledge and stabs Harbinger forward. In tandem with this, a giant Centinel bursts from the chamber roof, raining debris down on the pair below. He slams against it full force, his blade plunging into flesh in-between the armor plating along its back. The creature lurches to the side with a pained screech that reverberates through the cavern, so loud that his ears ring. He plants his feet against it as it thrashes and shoves off, dragging his weapon out of it. Yang and Blake are at his side when he lands.

"They can get _that_ big?" Yang asks in surprise. "Holy shit."

"Get ready."

No further words are exchanged. She and Blake simply look at each other and jump into action.

The two dash off in opposite directions, Yang circling around the front of the Centinel. It swivels towards her, but before it can attack, there's an echoing gunshot as Blake buries Gambol Shroud into its side. A single tug is enough to make it direct its attention at her instead. Yang launches herself upwards and then falls, slamming her fists along its exposed underside as she does to leave a line of explosives. Halfway to the ground she punches with both fists and fires, sending her flying away from it. The detonation throws it backwards, a thick haze of dust and smoke obscuring it.

Yang flips and grabs Gambol Shroud when Blake tosses it. A shot from Ember Celica gives her the force she needs to twist mid air to throw Blake up. As she hurtles towards it, Blake shifts her weapon into its katana form. The blade tears into it before she jumps back, a fiery clone of her burning brightly for just a moment before exploding. When it throws its head back, Kingfisher's line wraps around it. Already off-balance, it has no way to right itself when Clover pulls it back.

Qrow shifts to hold Harbinger behind him. He kicks off, firing as he does to propel himself forward. Another shot sends him into a spin that lets him cut through its weakened hide with ease. A third shot knocks him out of the spin. He buries the blade into the ground to come to a stop and swings around its handle until his feet stop sliding.

"Nice!" Yang shouts. "What a pushover!"

Blake giggles. "Not easy to stand up to us."

Grinning, Yang reaches over to fistbump her.

Qrow will never not be impressed by their teamwork. Clover swings down and rolls to a stop a few feet away, whistling at the evaporating Grimm.

The captain smiles when he looks at the duo. "I heard from Marrow about how well you two work together, but it's another thing to get to see it myself."

"We _are_ pretty great, huh?" Yang says, wrapping an arm around Blake. "We're not the Bumblebees for nothing!"

"Yang!" Blake cries, but laughs as she playfully shoves the blonde. She then looks up at Qrow. "Thanks for the warning. How did you know it was there?"

"Gut feeling." Not the best answer, but it's the only one he's willing to give.

Her ears twitch. He wouldn't be surprised if she caught the lie.

"Anyways, we should get going. If we head through there—" Qrow points to another tunnel on the far side of the cavern to emphasize. "—we're bound to run into Elm and Vine. Maybe the others, too, if they haven't run into too much trouble."

"How do you figure that?" Yang asks.

"You think I wouldn't memorize the map of this place?"

"Fair point. Got me there."

Blake tilts her head at him. "It wasn't exactly a good map…"

"Useful enough," he replies.

He brushes past Clover, who just _looks_ at him, and heads for the tunnel. Yang and Blake fall in behind him while Clover takes the rear. Though they keep their voices low, Qrow can still hear the two girls.

"Is it just me, or...?"

"No, something is definitely wrong, but..."

Best to just ignore that.

The tunnel leads upwards with a steep incline before leveling out. At one point Blake slips on loose gravel and is swiftly caught by Yang, but the scowl that appears on Qrow's face makes both of them feel the need to reassure him. Yang offers him a wide smile with a quiet reminder to _not do that_ , but how can he not? It's his fault, even if it was just a slip.

They're just worried, so he mumbles his thanks to them instead.

He catches the way the tension leaves Clover's shoulders.

_Right. The "don't beat yourself up about it" shit. Not like I haven't seen just how bad it can be._

He bites his tongue and starts walking again.

It isn't long before the sounds of fighting reach them.

They come out into a second larger cavern and are greeted by two more giant Centinels. The sight makes Qrow do a double take that thankfully goes unnoticed by the three he's with. In all the cycles he has been through, this is the first time he's ever seen a total of three of the gigantic pests.

_The hell? How are there two of them in here? That's never happened before. What_ —

His confused thoughts are interrupted by the sound of Crescent Rose firing.

The tip of the scythe digs into the Centinel's throat. The momentum carries Ruby across the width of its body, the blade carving through it all the while, until she reaches the other side. She then flips around to land on its back and fires, the recoil forcing the weapon the rest of way through to sever its head.

She spins her scythe as she lands, not bothering to look at the disintegrating monster behind her.

A shout from the other side of the cavern draws his attention away.

Nora drops down from above and slams her hammer against the Centinel's head with a resounding crack. It never hits the ground; a follow-up from Elm sends it crashing into the cavern wall, killing it.

"Good work, team!" Clover calls.

"What took you guys so long?" Elm asks with a laugh as she looks up at them.

"We were dealing with our own oversized friend."

The conversation fades into the background. Qrow remembers how the last cycle had ended, that distinct feeling of something being _different_ , a change in the way things went, how they were going to go and what the conclusion would be. That feeling strikes him again, but it couldn't just be from two extra Centinels, could it? That didn't make any sense. It has to be something else, anything else, not a couple of overgrown bugs.

The rest of the mission passes by in a blur—just clean-up, killing the remaining small fry and a (relatively) quick secondary sweep. Next thing he knows, they're all standing at the entrance.

The feeling in the pit of his stomach worsens.

Not wanting to interact with any of them, Qrow chooses to stand upon entering the transport, and sequesters himself in the corner farthest from the others. Yang casts a concerned look his way when she boards, which makes him duck his head to avoid looking at her—and everyone else. By the time they're in the air he's drumming his fingers against his arm and silently tapping his heel, just wishing the flight would hurry up and be done with already so that he can just be alone to figure out what's going on.

His ingenious plan of _"sulk in the corner and don't speak to anyone"_ gets a wrench thrown in it when he hears Clover say his name. In response he folds his arms tighter against his chest.

Instead of taking the hint, Clover persists. "Qrow, please."

"Shut it, Ebi."

There's a growl from Harriet, who opens her mouth to comment on his angry reply, but Clover holds out a hand that makes her press her lips into a thin line. Yang and Blake both tense and turn their heads to stare at the captain. Marrow shifts in his seat with a perturbed expression, eyes flickering between everyone.

"Just listen. That's all I'm asking."

He clenches his jaw, then mutters, "Spit it out."

With a heavy exhale, Clover leans forward and folds his hands between his knees.

"I apologize for overstepping. I didn't mean any harm by it, but I shouldn't have brought it up. It's clearly a sensitive subject for you."

Qrow wants to snap, wants to tell the other man off again, only to lean against the wall and wilt. He just doesn't have the energy to keep this up. _Don't,_ he tells himself, twisting his pant leg in his hand. There's still anger nipping at the back of his mind, desperate to burst forth, but he stamps it down. Clover hadn't deserved to be yelled at to begin with, and he certainly doesn't deserve it right now when he is just trying his best to be considerate of Qrow's feelings.

"Okay," he says, exhaustion making him sound all the more raspy. "I'm sorry."

Clover blinks.

That is all Qrow can bring himself to say, but it is enough, judging from the smile that graces Clover's face. He'll do more to make up for the outburst later, when he isn't so on edge.

The flight from that point is mostly quiet, save for the low whispers between Blake and Yang. He doesn't mind, even though they're once again talking about what might be wrong, what might have been the cause of his anger. No, he doesn't mind at all, despite the fact that he wishes they wouldn't. He truly doesn't mind.

He focuses on the hum of the engine.

Relief washes over him when they land back at the academy. He falls in step with Clover as they disembark just as he always does. In the hopes that he won't earn anyone else's concern, he raises his head so that he won't seem quite so down.

The first person he sees is James.

Red eyes meet blue.

The world tilts, and Qrow chokes on his own breath as _fingers dig into his neck a deafening crack splits his head murderous blue eyes glaring down at him sharp burning pain in his chest he can't breathe_ **_he can't breathe_** —

Hands clamp down on his arms to hold him tightly, snapping him back into himself. A dozen pairs of eyes are on him, watching in a prolonged silence that churns his stomach. At that moment he doesn't care that he's all but clinging to Clover, his fingers digging into skin, because it is the only thing that keeps him on his feet instead of collapsing to the floor. Voices drift in and out around him as he tries to focus on breathing, forcing his lungs to work. He doesn't want his breath to catch in his throat again. He is faintly aware of Yang and Blake on either side of him, both speaking soothing words in hushed tones but not touching him.

"I..." The words refuse to come, but he isn't even sure what he wants to say.

"It's okay," Yang whispers, carefully placing her hand over his. "You're doing good. Just keep taking deep breaths."

Some distant part of his mind reminds him that she has experience with this, a thought that isn't comforting in the least.

Panic building in his chest, he wrenches himself free from Clover's grasp to shove past them. When the man reaches out to grab him, he jams his hands into his pockets and hurries towards the exit of the hangar.

He just needs to get away.

"Qrow?" James asks as he passes by.

"Not now, Ironwood," he says, voice tight.

He can hear footsteps after him as Yang says something he doesn't quite catch. _Doesn't matter._

He isn't sure where his feet take him. He just keeps walking until he can no longer stand the feeling in his stomach. As it becomes too much to bear, he bends over the first trash can he finds and vomits. Even after his stomach has been emptied of its contents he heaves, nothing but bile and acid coming up. Several minutes pass before it finally stops, but he remains hunched over the trash can just in case.

There's a soft, "Hey," to his left accompanied by the feeling of a hand on his back. He jolts and turns to find that Marrow is standing beside him, eyebrows furrowed in concern.

All he's really done today is make people worry.

"Do you need something to drink? Maybe some water?"

He shakes his head. "...it'd probably come right back up."

There's a flicker of contemplation on Marrow's face, then he says, "Alright. Just don't forget to get some when your stomach calms down, okay?"

"Yeah," Qrow rasps. "Could you tell James I'm sorry? I didn't mean to..." He makes a vague gesture to himself.

"I'm sure he'll understand." The younger man lightly pats his back. "Why don't you go get some rest? I'll let the others know."

He nods silently.

It isn't until Marrow is out of sight that Qrow wills himself to move. There's still a faint feeling of nausea, but he's able to push it down as he makes the trek to his room. 

He all but collapses onto his bed when he gets in and buries his head in his hands.

_I'm never going to be able to look_ **_anyone_ ** _in the eyes again, am I?_

He almost laughs.


End file.
